The Story of Us
by xAllTheWorld'sAStagex
Summary: Alyss was all but normal-she couldn't explain her knowledge for unknown/foreign novels, but when a mysterious man appears at her door, all of that changes and is whisked away to the magical world of Hogwarts. Eventually AlyssXSnape and T/M later perhaps..
1. Prologue

I never expected this to happen. Never dreamed of it actually. And yet here I was, once again wrapped in his arms as he carried me to the hospital wing for the second time in a year. I sat like a damsel in distress, and I hated it; I hated feeling weak and helpless. But he was here and it was hard for me to hold those thoughts for long.

I could deny it all I wanted, but one thing was for certain-I was hopelessly in love.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, etc etc  
><strong><span>Notes<span>:** First time writing a Fic, not sure how well it will go, but I'll keep at it for now.

~Chapter 1~

I unlock the door and step into an empty house; the same empty house I've been coming home to since I was 11 years old. It may seem forlorn to some people, but I have grown accustomed to the silence, the vast space of a forgotten house. Of course at times I feel the pang of loneliness and the memories flood back, but I push them away, push them back into the furthest realms of my mind.

Six years of living alone has taken a toll on my life-I often find myself skipping meals because I have forgotten to check the time, or forgetting to lock the doors before I retire to bed. All things a seventeen-year-old girl shouldn't have to worry about. But when you have no parents and no siblings to look after, you often find yourself absentminded.

And so the routine continues, as I throw my bag on the floor and place my phone on the table. I take the worn, brass key from around my neck and head to the one place that I can lose myself in for hours on end: the study. The study is my sanctuary from everything: school, work, stress, memories I try to suppress. The books my parents keep in there are like no ordinary books; they're filled with all sorts of equations, jumbled numbers and strange symbols I have never seen before in my life. I'm fascinated with them-can't put them down once I start reading them. It was like some strange new creature that I had just discovered and had to analyze it. The craziest part of it all was that I could actually understand what I was reading. I felt like it was all buried in my mind, and once I picked up one of the books, it resurfaced, allowing me to understand it all. I had spent the last six years pouring over these books; writing my own notes, creating my own theories, producing my own equations, but never really understanding what to do with them.

I could tell I had stumbled upon something, but what, I didn't know. The equations were something that could not be used in this world-that much I could understand. The symbols that kept appearing in my head and in the books were not any I had ever seen and I had already spent many months researching different languages, trying to figure out where they came from. I also looked up ancient languages; Egyptian, Latin, even ancient runes, but all in which I came up short. I struggled between the desire to unearth a new world, and the nagging voice in my brain telling me it was all absurd, telling me to think logically.

My phone beeped loudly, pulling me out of my thoughts and back to the real world. I head over to the table and snatch my phone up. It indicates I have a text from Stella. I open the message up and it reads: "LYS, I'LL B OVER IN 10, K? B RDY! :]"

Ugh, I forgot I promised Stella I'd go to the mall with her today. _Looks like I won't be using the study this afternoon_, I say to myself as I refasten the key around my neck. I run upstairs to grab my purse, careful not to glance into any other bedrooms save my own. It's been six years and the pain is still unbearable sometimes. This is why, although I'd much rather be engrossed in secret novels, hidden away in my parent's study, being around other people is a good way to keep my mind off of my family. It helps me be just a little more normal, just a little more like any other average seventeen-year-old girl.

"But you are not normal," says a leering voice in my mind. "You are anything but." I push the nagging voice away; I know who I am. I just see things differently than most-anyone would if they had been through what I had. _But then again, I am able to read and understand unknown and foreign material…_I begin to think to myself, but I shake my head as if it would clear the thought away. I'm sure there was some explanation for it, though I couldn't help feeling entirely convinced. Regardless, I needn't worry about such trivial things that could potentially cloud my mind that evening-I was supposed to be worry free for this shopping trip.

Don't get me wrong, I love shopping and fashion; one quick glance into my closet could tell anyone that. But I understand that it isn't the most important thing in this world. Most times I would much rather be engrossed in some sort of reading, whether in my parent's study or simply a novel from the library.

My phone beeps a moment later and I assume that it is Stella. I peek outside my window and sure enough, I spot her silver porche (yeah, isn't she lucky) sitting in my driveway. I dash down the stairs to the door and my phone beeps again. _Well_, I think to myself, _one afternoon of shopping every once in a while never hurts._" And I run out to meet my impatient friend.

I returned later that evening with an armful of shopping bags. I spent more than I really wanted to, but I had a great time with Stella nonetheless.

Sitting down on the living room couch, I opened up one of the many boxes and produced a new pair of shoes-blue suede, knee high boots. Ever since I was young, I could never resist the temptation to try on a new pair of shoes.

I had just about finished zipping them up, when there was a knock at the door. Who was it at this time of night?

"Stella, if that's you…" I begin as I unlock the door and yank it open. "I'm not going to that party, I told you-" My eyes widened. The person at the door was most definitely not Stella.

This man must have been well into his eighties, at least. He had long, snowy hair and a beard to match. His piercing blue eyes sat behind half-moon spectacles, and they seemed as if they were staring straight into my soul. The man would have looked like any old man, really, if it wasn't for his trailing purple robes-obviously someone has been too caught up in World of Warcraft.

He smiled warmly and spoke,"Ah, Alyss, I presume?" I wasn't sure what I was thinking at that point, but the look on my face must have been skepticism mixed with shock, because the man went on to say, "Please, allow me to come in and I can explain everything. There are many things we must discuss."

I stood there, hesitating. Should I trust this man? This extremely odd looking man who I've never seen before? My intuition told me I shouldn't, and yet, there was something so trusting about this man.

I opened the door wider and stood aside to let the old man step over the threshold and into the house.

The man sat down on the armchair in the living room, and I sat across from him, taking my seat on the couch where I sat only moments ago.

He cleared his throat and began to speak, "Alyss, my name is Albus Dumbledore, I knew your parents quite well actually. It's a shame what happened. And you! Left all alone to fend for yourself." His expression softened. "Do you remember what happened the night your parents and sisters died?"

I swallowed hard, thinking back to that painful night. "They…they were murdered. Right in front of me."

"Yes, they were murdered by a man who calls himself Lord Voldemort. A very twisted and evil man. I unfortunately also knew him well."

"Do you know why my family was…killed?" I asked hesitantly. Did I even want to know? For years I believed the incident to be a random act of violence that we were unfortunately chosen for. And now it seemed that there may have been reason behind these murders?

"Yes," the man named Dumbledore spoke. "Your parents had information that Voldemort needed."

I was puzzled. "What kind of information?"

He was silent for a moment; he seemed to be contemplating something. "I know this may be hard to believe, especially because you have grown up in the Muggle world, and everything magical has been thought of as non-existent or that of fairy tales.

"Wait a second," I said quickly. "What is 'Muggle'?"

Dumbledore gave a short sigh. "Right. You haven't any idea of what that means. This may not be as easy to explain as I thought."

"Explain what exactly?" I asked, completely at a loss.

"That you have centuries old magical blood coursing through your veins. You, Miss Rayne, are a witch." He said bluntly.

Was he playing with me? What the hell does he mean that I'm a witch?

"Is this some sort of joke?" I asked suspiciously. "Did someone put you up to this, because I am not laughing."

"And nor am I," he spoke calmly. "I speak the truth. Your parents were wizards and you as well. You are different, you know it, but you are refusing to believe the proof that is right in front of your eyes."

I sat in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say or think. I could feel myself wanting desperately to believe him. "What proof exactly?" I asked. "Does this mean you are a..a 'wizard' too?" The word sounded foolish coming from my mouth.

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, I am." Suddenly the pillow on the couch promptly sprouted wings and began fluttering about the room.

What…the..hell? I couldn't believe my eyes. It was a trick, it had to be. It had to be? Why did I keep denying that this was magic? Because society and my culture taught me that magic wasn't real? But here I sat, in the midst of magic and I knew that society was wrong. I was wrong to keep denying it. This was magic, plain and simple, and I yearned to be part of it.

Reviews are absolutely lovely; please, don't be too hard on me though.


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